Melting the Ice
by iNTR3PiD
Summary: An improbable evening for Emma Frost leads to an implausible situation and the beginning of an impossible relationship with Bobby Drake. Will the Iceman warm the heart of the Ice Queen?
1. Two's Company

**A/N:** This story will replace "Diamonds of Ice". I wrote that story some time ago, and I recently decided that I do not like it. Please read and review.

***Updated version***

Disclaimer: All characters/names belong to Stan Lee and Marvel Comics.

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><p>Melting the Ice<p>

Chapter 1: Two's Company

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><p><em><strong>Emma Frost was bored<strong>_.

She was reclining in a plush leather chair in the academy's common room. She sat facing an enormous window. Millions of white dots floated to the ground and added a new layer to the ankle-high duvet of snow that had been accumulating all week. It was Friday night and she was alone. The mansion was abnormally quiet and, while Emma normally welcomed the silence, tonight it only served to emphasize the pathetic nature of her situation. The weekend was only just beginning and she did not have any plans.

She used the window as a makeshift mirror to examine her appearance. An oval face with a thin nose and full, pink lips was elegantly framed by long, immaculately straight, platinum-blonde hair. Her complexion was an attractive cream color and her skin was flawless. Cerulean eyes highlighted by long, feminine lashes and thin eyebrows stared back at her. She knew that she was an attractive woman. She had exploited that knowledge on a number of occasions, but apparently beauty had not been enough to generate any interesting endeavors for the evening. She sighed and returned her attention to her book. She was grateful that no one would get to see her like this.

"Emma?" Her head snapped up and her eyes sought out the owner of the voice. Her gaze settled on the Iceman, Bobby Drake.

"Robert," she said coldly. "I'm surprised to see you home so soon. Did Chuck-e-Cheese close early?"

"Nah, but they told me that I was too big for the tunnel maze," he said. "Naturally, I was just completely devastated. What's your excuse?"

She shrugged and gestured with her chin towards the book in her hands. "Just catching up on some light reading."

Bobby's eyes scanned the title of the book. "_Advanced Economics: Strategies for Stock Market Success_. Sure sounds 'light'. But seriously, what's up? _The_ Emma Frost alone on a Friday night? Shouldn't you be out chatting up some male fitness model or something?"

"Contrary to popular belief, Robert, I actually require my dates to demonstrate some level of intelligence. And besides, I could do much better for myself than some gym junkie."

Emma was expecting another sarcastic remark, but Bobby fell silent. He placed his hands on his hips and began mulling over an idea while quietly observing her. His gaze was leveled on Emma, but he didn't utter a syllable for quite some time. When the silence grew to an uncomfortable level, Emma finally spoke up.

"Well, this has certainly been a scintillating conversation, Robert, but if you have nothing else to add, I'd appreciate some privacy."

Bobby still refused to speak. He began slowly chewing on his lower lip. It was the only indication that he was still cognitive. Emma grew more impatient.

"Look, Robert, if you came here to gloat or to poke fun at my situation then say your piece and be done with it. You can tell all of your little friends that really you got under my skin, but say something or please leave me the hell alone!"

The silence persisted. Emma lost her temper.

"Dammit, Bobby! Are you listen—"

"Do you want to hang out with me?" He blurted out finally.

"Excuse me?" She had _not_ been expecting that.

Bobby rubbed at the back of his neck nervously and his cheeks turned a light shade of red. He looked everywhere but her face.

"Do you want to hang out with me?" He repeated slowly.

Emma looked at him incredulously. She raised a curious eyebrow and pursed her lips. She decided that he couldn't be serious.

"Is this some kind of joke, Robert? Did Paige put you up to this?"

Bobby forced himself to calm down. He wrenched his hand from behind his head, squared his shoulders, and took a deep breath. He looked straight into Emma's eyes.

"No joke," he began shakily. "Look, you don't have any plans tonight and I don't have any plans tonight." His confidence grew with each syllable. "So why don't we make plans with each other?"

Emma couldn't refute his logic and that bothered her. She pondered the offer. Maybe a distraction was just what she needed. Bobby slumped his shoulders, discouraged at the lack of an immediate answer. He twisted his neck to the side and shifted his gaze away from her.

"Right. Probably a stupid idea anyhow," he turned to leave. "Sorry for bothering you."

"Yes."

"What?" he paused mid-step.

"Yes, I will 'hang out' with you," she reiterated.

Bobby turned back around. His eyes lit up and a smile tugged at his lips. Emma was surprised and confused by the excitement that was evident in his expression. She chalked it up to the fact that he no longer had to spend the evening alone. She could not imagine that was he was particularly pleased with his chosen company.

"On one condition: that we do not leave the mansion. I could not be seen with you in public, I have a reputation to maintain." If the line had come from anyone else, Bobby might have been offended. Instead, his smile grew wider.

"And stop smiling like an idiot!"

Bobby suppressed the grin with some difficulty. "Ok, deal."

He gestured to his attire with his hands. "I've gotta go shower and change. Meet back here in, say, thirty minutes?"

For the first time that evening—maybe in her life—Emma more closely examined his appearance. He was tall, with a square jaw and a boyishly handsome face. His light brown hair was short and styled to form a faux hawk at the top of his head. He was dressed in exercise clothes: a dark blue, sleeveless t-shirt and silver athletic shorts with a pair of cross-training Nike tennis shoes adorning his feet. She noticed that he was in very good shape. He had broad shoulders and his arms bulged with solid, defined muscle. He may have acted like an imbecile, but at least he was a good-looking imbecile. She thought that she could have done worse for herself.

Bobby was looking at her expectantly and she realized that she still had not answered his question. She couldn't believe that Robert Drake had caught her gawking. She attempted to cover her faux pas with more sarcasm.

"Thirty minutes, Robert? I had no idea that you were such a girl when it came to getting ready."

"Actually, the thirty minutes was for you. You don't plan on wearing _that_ do you?" His eyes passed up and down her body, indicating her skin-tight leather pants, tube top, and four-inch heels. All of which were pristinely white.

"And what exactly is wrong with what I'm wearing?"

"It just doesn't seem, ah, appropriate for what I had planned for tonight."

"You are not one to discuss fashion choices, Robert, trust me. But I suppose I could scrounge up some slightly more '_appropriate'_clothing."

"Comfortable," Bobby corrected. "Some more comfortable clothing."

Emma rolled her eyes but nodded her head reluctantly.

"See you in thirty," Bobby said before dashing out of the common room and up the staircase towards his room.

"Make it forty-five," Emma called after him. She heard him shout "ok" an instant before he slammed his door shut. She stood and smoothed down invisible wrinkles in her clothing while shaking her head. She made her way out of the common room and followed Bobby's trail up the staircase. At least now she wouldn't be spending the night alone.

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><p>Please review.<p> 


	2. Revelations

**A/N:** I re-read this story and it reinvigorated me. I am doing some light editing, and then I will post chapter four. Enjoy!

*Updated version*

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><p>Melting the Ice<p>

Chapter 2: Revelations

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><p><em><strong>Emma Frost was fed-up<strong>_.

She huffed as she tossed another outfit aside. She didn't even know why it was such a big deal in the first place. Why should it matter to her if Bobby liked the clothes that she chose?_ He was trying to be nice_, she thought, and that merited some measure of reward in her mind. She ran her fingers through her hair and closed her eyes, mentally cataloguing all of the items in her wardrobe. This was turning out to be much more challenging than she thought. _What the hell did "appropriate" mean anyways?_

Then it hit her. She knew exactly what she would wear.

Forty-three minutes and thirty-seven seconds later, Emma made her way down to the common room. As she drew near, she significantly slowed her gait. It wasn't too late to turn around. They were hardly friends, she reasoned. He would be disappointed, but after a short while something else would capture his attention and he would forget all about her. She remembered the look of excitement on his face when she had agreed to indulge him by "hanging out". The common room was rapidly approaching. She made up her mind.

The mansion's common room was an expansive, spacious area. There were two entrances. One, near the front of the room, was adjacent to the main foyer. The other, in the opposite corner of the room, was accessible from the hall with the staircase that led up to the mansion's dormitories. The floor was covered with wood paneling and smart leather furniture with matching end tables was dotted all around the room. One wall was made up of large windows that overlooked the academy's front lawn. Another was lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, and a fireplace that was alive with bright orange flames. An entertainment center, with a large flat screen television and the latest video game console, had been built into the wall opposite the bookshelves. Emma found Bobby rapidly texting on a love seat facing the TV. She cleared her throat to announce her presence.

"Emma?" Bobby stood to face her. She noticed that he had exchanged his blue cut-off for a more loose-fitting, grey t-shirt and his silver shorts for black Adidas sweat pants.

"Well?" She said. "Appropriate enough?" She twirled around so he could get a look at all of her.

Bobby was speechless. He had never seen her like this before. She was wearing a light purple-blue V-neck t-shirt, and short, black, nylon athletic shorts. Her hair was tied up in a loose ponytail and there wasn't a trace of makeup on her face. The simple clothing accentuated the swell of her breasts and the sensual curvature of her hips and backside, but did not flaunt them. Her face looked soft and young and feminine, and Bobby thought that he had never seen anything quite so beautiful.

Emma grew slightly unnerved by the return of more silence. She thought that she might have done something wrong. She reached out telepathically and scanned Bobby's surface thoughts and discovered quite the opposite. Smiling inwardly she said, "I can change if you'd like."

"No!" Bobby said a little too quickly, and Emma grinned at his uneasiness. He cleared his throat and tried again.

"I mean… uh… no. That's fine. You look fine." He took a deep breath to calm himself. "You look...nice." His cheeks burned bright red, and he turned away from her to hide his embarrassment.

"Good. Now, what did you have mind for the evening's festivities?"

Bobby had recovered enough to speak. "I'm glad you asked…"

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><p>"I'm going to warn you, it's nearly impossible not to have a good time when you're hanging out with me," Bobby said as he leaned against a marble countertop in the mansion's kitchen. His body was facing the microwave, but his eyes were on Emma.<p>

The walk-in kitchen, like the common room, was an open area. The design was very modern. A rectangle of counters encased the room, all covered by marble. One side of the rectangle was missing, which served as the entrance into the kitchen. Black wooden cupboards hung from the walls around the counters and matching cabinets lined the area beneath the counters, separated by the stove and dishwasher. A cabinet island was situated in the middle of the room, and was serving as Bobby's support. The island was covered by the same marble surface as the counters and doubled as a small table. All of the appliances were sleek, silver, and top-of-the-line.

Emma rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. Bobby didn't know it, but she was having fun already. She was surreptitiously establishing a telepathic connection with him every few minutes, quietly probing his mind for a hidden agenda. She found none; instead she had been terribly amused to discover that her appearance still had not left the forefront of his thoughts. She thought that she might have been invading his privacy, but figured that he was at least doing the same to her based on the way that he kept thinking about her. She smirked. He had an impressive imagination.

"Is this what you do every weekend?" She asked as she observed him remove a steaming bag of popcorn from the microwave. He tossed the bag between his hands until it had cooled enough to open.

"At least once a month," he nodded. "It's nice to have the entire mansion to yourself. I don't have to share any of the popcorn." He smiled at his own joke, but received a withering glance from Emma.

"Not that I mind the company," he added hurriedly.

"Of course not, but doesn't a 'movie night' seem a little…elementary?"

The smile faded on Bobby's face, and he adopted a more pensive expression with pursed lips and a furrowed brow. Suddenly, he looked much older than his twenty-four years.

"I never really got to be a kid," he said. "Not in the traditional sense anyway. My powers manifested pretty early on. I was cold all the time, even in ninety-degree heat."

He folded his arms."My parents didn't know what was wrong with me. They talked to specialist after specialist, but none of them could figure it out. Then one day, I'm taking a bath and all the water in the tub just freezes over with me sitting right in the middle of it," he paused and his eyes glazed over in recollection.

"I'd never heard my mom scream that loud before. But that was nothing compared to the way that my dad looked at me." His stare was fixated on some point over Emma's shoulder. "Like I was the most disgusting thing he had ever seen."

He paused again, longer this time. The faraway look in his eyes was now tainted by recollected pain. "Been growing up real fast since then," he said finally, nodding. Whether to himself, or to her, Emma didn't know.

She didn't know how to react. She thought that she should have put a reassuring arm around his shoulders, but ended up just awkwardly shifting her weight from one foot to the other. No one had opened up to her like this before. She had had a rough childhood as well, but she had learned, early on, to survive by building walls around her emotions and keeping people, even other mutants, at a distance.

She had never accepted pity from anyone. She was repulsed by the idea, but now, staring at Bobby, she started to regret that decision. She was unsure about the proper response to his story because she had never revealed a vulnerable side of herself to anyone. The "Ice Queen"—that's what they called her, and she had earned the title. She was cold and emotionless, but Bobby wasn't anything like her. He had been ostracized as a child, been made into a pariah, and now he strived to fit in by playing the part of the prototypical class clown. She had ostracized herself. She tried to find the right words.

"Robert, I—"

"It's not your fault," he said suddenly. He shook his head and snapped out of his malaise.

"Wow, listen to me. Blabbing my sob story like some heartbroken teenage girl." His entire demeanor changed. He surged off the island's countertop with the popcorn in hand, and a smile plastered to his face once more. "Talk about killing the mood, right?" He began to walk towards her.

Emma was still frozen in place. She wasn't sure what to make of the sudden shift in behavior.

"To answer your question: if it's 'elementary'," he paused in front of her. "I sure hope so." He studied her face for a few seconds before moving on towards the entertainment room.

Emma reached out and grabbed his forearm as he passed. Bobby halted.

"I'm glad you're letting me share this with you," she said. They were not words of comfort, or of pity, but they were the best that she could do. Somehow, Bobby understood that.

Their gazes were locked for a few moments before Bobby smiled, and nodded and resumed his gait. He walked a few steps before noticing that Emma was not beside him.

"You coming?" he said. "There's way too much damn popcorn here for me to finish on my own..."

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><p>Review?<p> 


	3. Whatever You Please

**A/N:** This update is somewhat late but I was not particularly interested in writing during the holidays. I hope all of you (my readers) have a pleasant new year.

*Updated version*

Disclaimer: All characters/names belong to Stan Lee and Marvel Comics. Descriptions of events and locations are all the property of my wild imagination.

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><p>Melting the Ice<p>

Chapter 3: Whatever You Please

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><p><em><strong>Emma Frost was relieved<strong>_.

After the conversation in the kitchen, the two had proceeded to the entertainment room for the grand finale of their evening. Contrary to the common room, this area was designed to exude a feeling of closeness. Light fixtures, like electric torches, lined the side walls of the miniature theater at a declining angle. The thick carpeting was a deep maroon color and spotless. The walls and furniture were black and the ambient lighting was dim, emphasizing an intimate atmosphere.

There was a large L-shaped couch in the center of the room flanked by a matching loveseat perpendicular to the far wall. A low, glass coffee table separated the two. Covering the majority of the far wall was an enormous projector screen the size of a bed sheet. The projector dropped down from the darkened ceiling behind the furniture like an elaborate, motionless security camera.

Bobby and Emma chatted about inconsequential things like the length of their respective tenures at the Academy and a few recent endeavors. The uncomfortable topic of Bobby's childhood was poignantly avoided and seemingly forgotten. Bobby had the bowl of popcorn in one hand and a few boxes of candy in another. Emma had carried the beverages: two large glasses teeming with frothy root beer on top of two generous scoops of vanilla ice cream. Emma was a little put off by the idea of consuming so sugar, but Bobby had assured her—with a once over—that her figure would remain intact. She had smiled at that. He seemed to be searching for any excuse to examine her appearance.

They set their food down on the coffee table and Bobby walked to the back corner of the room to set up the movie. He returned and sat on a corner of the larger couch. Emma chose a spot near the opposite end, closer to the screen but farther away from Bobby. The opening credits began rolling.

"Do I smell _that_ bad?" Bobby said.

Emma was surprised by the outburst. She recovered quickly. "What? No. Sorry. You smell fine," she paused. "Why does it matter where I sit?"

Bobby shrugged. "Doesn't really. But I like knowing that I could talk to you if I wanted to."

"Talk to me _during_ the movie?" Emma raised a curious eyebrow. "What about _watching_ the movie?"

Bobby exaggerated a slap to his forehead. "What was I thinking? A movie on the first date is always a mistake."

"This is a date?"

_Stupid_, he thought, mentally slapping himself.

"Not a date," he said. "Well… uh… I mean, it wasn't supposed to be a date."

"But it's supposed to be now?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose, screwing his eyes tightly shut. "Ah, no."

"Why? You don't think I'm date-worthy?" Her tone was playful but relentlessly teasing. _He was really squirming now._

"Am I not pretty enough for you, Bobby?"

"I'm gonna stop you right there," he said, his cheeks turning a now familiar pink. "If I shove my foot any deeper into my mouth I'll have toenails growing out of my ass."

Emma laughed and Bobby reluctantly joined in. Once they had settled, Emma stood and walked over towards Bobby. She took a seat much closer to him, but there was still a one-cushion barrier between them. Bobby looked pleased.

Emma gave him a look that said: _Happy?_

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><p>About halfway through the film, Bobby glanced over at Emma. She was sitting straight-backed against the couch. Her neck was stiffly erect and her hands were folded neatly in her lap.<p>

"You can relax, you know?" He said. "This is Bruckheimer, not a board meeting."

"Hmm?" Emma shifted her gaze to him.

He imitated her rigid posture and even crossed his legs in a very feminine manner. He exhaled the breath he was holding, sunk back into the plush leather of the couch, and linked his hands behind his head. Then he repeated himself.

"_Relax_." He drew out the second syllable to emphasize his point.

Emma flashed a tight smile at Bobby's antics and nodded. She leaned back into the cushions behind her and curled an ankle beneath herself, sitting on a folded leg.

"Better," Bobby said and then he appeared to deliberate over something for a number of seconds before standing.

He walked towards the rear of the room and pulled back a section of the wall near a corner using a recessed finger hold. Bobby had revealed a concealed linen closet. He snagged a thin blanket from the middle shelf, slid the door back into place and returned to Emma.

He chose the seat directly next to her and tossed the folded square of cotton onto her lap. Emma eyed him curiously and absently fingered one of the corners of the blanket.

"You look cold," Bobby offered.

Emma's fingers ceased their motion and she spread the blanket across her knees. She pulled back the right side of the blanket, nearest Bobby.

"We can share," she said.

Bobby turned to face her and smiled. "Okay."

Their eyes locked and the two were motionless until a jarring explosion erupted from the surround-sound speakers. The sound caused Emma to recoil out of shock and she clamped her hands around Bobby's upper arm.

Bobby was surprised as well but not by the movie's special effects display. Emma's reaction to the noise was what he hadn't seen coming. Nonetheless, he was rather pleased by it. He smirked when she did not immediately retract her hands.

After some moments in comfortable silence he ventured, "Can I have my arm back?"

"You may do whatever you please with what is yours," Emma replied, her eyes glued to the screen. She withdrew her hands from his bicep quickly and once again folded them in her lap.

Bobby's smirk grew into a full-fledged grin and then, emboldened by her statement, he lifted the arm she had returned to him and dropped it behind her shoulders. At this, she turned to him with a frown and narrowed her eyes slightly.

"'Whatever I please', right?" he said.

Emma shook her head. _Couldn't be more obvious_ she thought. She stared at him a little while longer, incredulous. He had returned his attention to the movie, intentionally avoiding her gaze. Emma sighed—promising herself that she would regret this decision—but nevertheless shifted marginally closer to Bobby.

She leaned into his shoulder and whispered harshly, "Mention this to anyone and you will wake up the following morning convinced that your shaving razor is a lollipop."

"Whatever you please, your majesty," Bobby chuckled. "Whatever you please."

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><p>Next chapter will be up...sometime soon. (Hopefully!)<p> 


	4. Reciprocity

**A/N:** Sorry for the extreme delay on the new chapter update. I spent a lot of my time working on "Feral" and trying to wrap up that story. After I completed "Feral" I wanted to take a little break, and it turned into quite a long one.

Disclaimer: All characters/names belong to Stan Lee and Marvel Comics. The plot and any descriptions of characters or events belong to me.

Please read and review.

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><p>Melting the Ice<p>

Chapter 4: Reciprocity

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><p><em><strong>Emma Frost was warm.<strong>_

The comfortable heat surrounded her body like a strong arm around her shoulders. She smiled lazily with her eyes closed and nuzzled deeper into the firmness of her pillow. She ran her fingers lightly across the expanse of her bed sheets but halted abruptly when she came to the realization that what she was touching was definitely _not_ Egyptian cotton. _It felt like a—_her eyes shot open.

She took stock of her position.

She was situated beneath the crook of Bobby's shoulder, leaning against his chest. It had felt like there was an arm around her because there really _was_ an arm enveloping her shoulders. In her sleep she had folded both of her feet beneath her legs and turned her body so that she was facing her companion. Bobby's arm clung loosely to her body and his head was angled downward so that his chin was nearly resting on the crown of her head.

_How had they ended up like this?_

Memories from the previous night flooded her subconscious. The offer; the movie. The _blanket_.

Emma arched her back and leaned away from Bobby's torso. She steadied herself with a palm on his chest. She contemplated shaking him awake and demanding an explanation, but she knew that he wouldn't have tried anything that she didn't first allow. She hadn't stopped him from sitting next to her, or from retrieving the blanket that now covered both of their laps. She hadn't stopped him from putting his arm around her. She examined his face.

He looked even younger while he slept, so much more innocent. Before she could stop herself, Emma brushed back some rebellious locks of hair that had fallen onto his brow during the night. She swore that she observed a ghost of a smile cross his lips at her actions. She quickly pulled her hand back.

_What was she doing?_ Bobby was four years her junior! Practically still a child! He acted enough like one anyhow. She searched his face again and remembered what he had confided in her about his upbringing.

That must have been what…this…was about. He had opened up to her and his vulnerability had compelled her to comfort him, like the desire to take care of a lost, sick puppy. Last night had been an enjoyable experience, but that was all it was—just one night.

When Emma initially adjusted her position, Bobby's arm had slid further down her body. Now it was slung dangerously low on her waist, and Emma was becoming increasingly more uncomfortable with its presence. She delicately removed the arm from around her midsection and placed it at his side. She stood, slowly, and collected all of the residual glassware and wrappers left over from the previous night. Once she was finished tidying up, her eyes fell once more upon Robert Drake.

She reached out to straighten the blanket where it had fallen away from him but forced herself to stop. _Just one night_, she reminded herself. She scribbled a brief note on some paper she discovered in the linen closet, placed it on the glass coffee table in front of him, and cast a final, fleeting look over her shoulder towards the large couch where the back of Bobby's head was still visible.

Then she was gone.

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><p>When Bobby awoke he felt lighter. The weight that had been pressed into his side had been removed. He realized that he felt colder as well. He experienced a sensation of disorientation from waking in an unfamiliar location. His eyes darted back and forth across the room until his mind caught up with his body and recognized the area. The screen in front of him was filled with spliced movie clips as the DVD continued to play looped footage for the main menu screen.<p>

Bobby rose from the couch and terminated the laptop's connection to the projector. The screen went blank. He glanced around the room again. Then it all came back to him. Finding Emma in the common room, inviting her to hang out, and falling asleep watching that movie. _Where was Emma?_ His eyes fell upon the small square of white that was resting atop the glass coffee table. Bobby walked quickly back towards the couch and snatched the note off of the table. He couldn't identify the handwriting but he knew that it could have only belonged to one person. He read:

_Had to leave, didn't want to wake you. _

_-E _

He folded the note and slid it into one of the front pockets on his sweatpants. He ran a hand through his hair and tried to remember if he had done anything inappropriate last night that might have caused Emma to leave without saying a word to him. When he drew a blank he dismissed the thought. There must have been another reason for her early-morning evacuation.

Thinking about Emma made Bobby keenly aware of the faint aroma that either her perfume or her shampoo had left bonded to the fabric of his t-shirt. It was the smell of cinnamon and vanilla and Bobby closed his eyes as he breathed it in. Warm and cool scents—he thought, just like her attitude towards him. One moment she was curled against him sleeping peacefully, and the next she had vanished without so much as a goodbye.

_Easy, tiger,_ his subconscious warned, and his eyes popped open. _It was just one night._

He shook his head and picked up the blanket that he had draped unceremoniously across the arm of the couch. He folded it and returned it to its place on the middle shelf in the linen closet. After sliding the closet door shut he turned back to face the room and did a quick once-over. Everything was back in its proper place—back to normal.

_Not everything,_ he thought. Bobby left the entertainment room determined to track down Emma…right after he had a shower.

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><p>Dishes. Emma Frost was washing dishes. If her morning hadn't been unusual enough, this situation positively screamed that there was something wrong with her. Or maybe there was something wrong with Bobby and his do-good attitude had rubbed off on her.<p>

_Not the mental picture that I needed right now_, she thought. They were certainly close enough last night. And she had been cozy, and he had been…warm. She shook her head, _just one night_. Those three words were quickly becoming a mental refrain. _God_ she needed to get out of this house.

"Need any help?" a voice called to her.

Emma jumped. _Bobby?_

"I'm sorry?" she said.

"I asked if you needed any help."

Emma recognized Hank McCoy's English-accented voice. She breathed an internal sigh of relief. Her relief was immediately swallowed up by the embarrassment at being caught washing dishes. She kept her eyes fixed on the sink.

"That's all right, Hank. I can manage on my own," Emma said.

"Are you sure? Because you've been washing the same glass for about five minutes now."

Emma realized that, as usual, he was right. She raised the sudsy glassware out of the water and straightened her arm out to the side. It was an invitation. Hank didn't budge.

"If you insist," she huffed while rotating her wrist back and forth, flinging soap and water remnants along the counter. She heard Hank approach the sink and stand next to her. Only after she spared him a sidelong glance did he take the glass from her hand.

"Dry," Emma commanded.

Hank nodded. Emma didn't notice.

They worked silently for a short time. Emma had long since finished cleaning her dishes from the previous night and had moved on to any plates or glasses that had been left out by the academy's general population.

Hank was steadily growing more uncomfortable. He had rarely ever seen Emma pick up after herself, and he had never seen her voluntarily clean up someone else's mess. And for some obscure reason she wasn't wearing anything white. Just as she reached out to grab another dirty glass he ventured:

"Is every all right?"

Emma's hand froze in midair. "Certainly, why do you ask?"

Hank raised an eyebrow and gestured to the pile of dirty dishes that Emma had been furiously scrubbing. Frost continued to avoid eye contact. She instead picked up the glass and proceeded to run it under the sink's faucet.

"Right," Hank said. "Because this is a perfectly normal situation."

Emma offered a noncommittal hum and continued washing.

"Did Bobby try to con you into watching a movie with him last night?"

Emma nearly dropped the glass. She struggled to maintain an impassive expression. She carefully set the glass down and then half turned to face her furry, blue companion. She appraised him for a moment.

"What makes you think that?"

Hank smiled. "Oh, nothing really. I just happened to walk past the entertainment room this morning…"

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><p>Bobby had only just begun his shower when the knock sounded on his door—loudly and insistently. He tried to ignore it, but near-constant pounding eventually exhausted his patience. He groaned as he shut off the water and stepped out of the shower stall. He snatched up a towel and secured it tightly around his waist.<p>

As he approached the door to his room, Bobby heard, "Robert Drake, you open this door at once!"

Bobby hurried over to the door and flung it wide open. "Emma?" he said.

"What? No," Anna Maria answered. Then she noticed Bobby's state of undress. She quickly turned her head and covered her eyes with the palm of her right hand.

"Christ, Bobby! You always answer your door in the nude?"

"When people interrupt me in the middle of my showers? Yes," he said.

"And what's this 'Emma' business all about?"

Bobby poked his head out into the hallway and glanced in either direction before beckoning Rogue into his room.

"Well, don't just stand there," he said.

Anna entered and busied herself with anything that she could find to keep her eyes away from Bobby's near-nude form. She could feel his eyes on her but he neither moved to speak nor to get dressed. "Put some clothes on, will you?" she said finally.

"I'll just be a second," Bobby said as he self-consciously tightened the towel at his waist. He shuffled over to his private bathroom and reappeared a minute later dressed in a pair of sweatpants.

"This had better be good."

"Are you decent?" Rogue said without turning around.

"I'd prefer 'handsome', but if you're asking whether or not I'm clothed then the answer is yes."

Rogue told him to shut up as she turned around to face him. Before she continued, she took the time to study the layout of the Iceman's bedroom.

It was cleaner than she thought it would be. His dirty laundry wasn't scattered about the room or the furniture, but instead it formed a small pile at the foot of his bed. The bed and knee-high dresser were pushed against the wall closest to the hallway. There was a chair and a desk along the opposite wall that housed Bobby's book and DVD collection as well as his laptop.

To Rogue's left there was a small entertainment center that supported a 32" flat-screen TV and an Xbox 360 video game console. There was a Rocker SE Wireless Game Chair made of black vinyl with grey mesh sides situated in front of the television at an angle. In the far back corner of the room was the door that led to the bathroom.

Rogue thought it looked like an over-sized college dormitory and the words "organized mess" came to her mind.

"Well?" Bobby said as he crossed his arms over his chest. "What did you want?"

"I was wondering where you got off to last night," Rogue said. She leaned back onto the dresser and crossed her legs at the ankles.

Bobby opened and closed his mouth twice before asking: "Why?"

"Because you were supposed to be my partner for midnight bowling last night. Instead I got stuck with some first year. Which wasn't all that bad except that every time he or I had a good roll he would try to give me a high five, but then he would remember about my ability and start apologizing profusely. It all got very annoying very fast."

Bobby nodded absently, not really paying attention.

"Seriously, what happened? You spend the night in with Frosty or something?"

"I—what?" Bobby's voice sounded more harsh than he intended. Rogue also noticed that he was suddenly very intently focused on her.

"Whoa, down boy! My gosh, it was just a joke," she said while running a hand through her hair. "Why so jumpy all of a sudden? Everybody knows that Frost didn't leave the mansion last night."

"It's just that…I know Emma doesn't like rumors. I don't want anything spreading around that isn't true," Bobby said.

Rogue stared at him. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"So it's 'Emma' now, huh? Not Ms. Frost or 'that icy bitch'. Maybe something did hap—"

Bobby shook his head and held up his palms. "Anna, we are done talking about this. What did you come here for?"

"Wow, rude," she said as she rose from the dresser. "If you must know, I was going to invite you to eat breakfast with me. I had hoped that you could help me with some Accounting homework."

"Right, sorry. It was a long night." When he noticed her expression he added, "_Not_ because I was with Emma."

Anna rolled her eyes. "I didn't say anything. So are you coming or not?"

"Yeah, just let me finish getting dressed and I'll be right down," Bobby said.

Rogue nodded and left, closing the door behind her.

Bobby sighed heavily once he returned to the bathroom. He pulled a T-shirt over his head and grabbed his shaving razor. Then he remembered Emma's warning from the previous night, and he quickly dropped the razor.

He decided that he could shave tomorrow.

* * *

><p>Review if you please. They encourage me to post faster. Sorry again for the unreasonably long hiatus.<p> 


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